


Recollection

by EatingFeathers



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bucky is a good boyfriend, Eventual Smut, F/M, Not really a slow burn, Shy!bucky, bucky is adorable, cute!bucky
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-09-11
Packaged: 2020-08-23 06:11:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20238046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EatingFeathers/pseuds/EatingFeathers
Summary: Miranda Lionsbeth is an associate of Pepper Potts, and a friend of the Avengers. At Pepper and Tony Stark's wedding, she meets the only remaining Avenger she hasn't met--the quiet and immaculately coiffed James Buchanan Barnes. What starts as a shy mutual crush turns into something more, thanks to a certain meddling CEO.





	1. The First Day of the Rest of Your Lives

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to BirdOfHermes, who encouraged me to post this when I was afraid.

The first time I met Bucky Barnes, it was at Pepper Potts’ wedding. 

Or I guess I should say, at Pepper Stark’s wedding. Bucky had been a recent… acquisition to the team, and though I’d met the rest of the Avengers over the last few years of working with Pepper, I hadn’t met him. He’d either been hiding from the world in his rooms or on a mission every time I’d been there for the last year, somehow, and if I were a sillier woman, I’d think he was somehow avoiding me.

I’d like to see him avoid me now, sitting at a table with me at the reception. Steve, Clint, and Sam were there as well, and I made a mental note to ask Pepper what I’d done to deserve such good luck. How was a girl supposed to get anything done with this kind of distraction? 

When I arrived at the table, the former Winter Soldier was somewhere else (how typical), and Steve patted the seat next to him. “Randa, it’s nice to see you again. Glad you could make it, Pepper said your schedule was pretty full these days.”

“Aidan gave me the next couple days off to mingle. Told me that it was ‘important that the ambassador to the Stark affiliates should spend as much time as possible cultivating favor, just in case something goes terribly wrong’. I think he just likes the idea of us together,” I added, making eyes at Steve. 

He didn’t even blush. Damn the man, but he was entirely immune to my charms by now. “He’s not the only one,” he said with a smile.

“Ooh, he flirts back now! Been taking lessons, Cap?” I put an arm around him in a friendly hug. 

“Yeah, from me,” Sam said as he crossed his arms. “Don’t manhandle my girl now, Steve, I was just making progress with her. How’s a brother supposed to compete with the Star-spangled Man with a Plan?”

The four of us joshed back and forth for a few minutes when finally, the fifth member of the group decided to emerge from whatever dark corner he’d been hiding in. 

“Excuse me, but...miss, I can’t…”

My first impression was that he was immaculately styled. The suit was tailored, I was certain thanks to Tony, and a shade of blue-grey that set off his eyes to perfection. He had a black leather glove on his left hand that looked more expensive than my dress was, and my dress was bought on Tony’s credit card. His hair looked soft, the kind of soft that had to be styled so it didn’t float off into the great beyond. The kind of soft a girl wanted to run her hands through and sigh. 

It took me too long to realize I hadn’t answered. “Oh, sorry." I pulled my bag off his chair and scooted over a bit so he could sit between myself and Sam. These tables were too damn small. That had to be Pepper’s doing--Tony was a go-big-or-go-home type, but Pepper liked her intimate settings. I wondered, not for the first time, if she was trying to set me up.

He sat down, and I thought I smelled cinnamon and apples. It was an interesting counterpoint to Steve’s not-quite-peppermint cologne on my other side. It amazed me how opposite they were.

Steve, all clean cuts and fine manners, said, “Buck, this is Randa. Miranda. She works with Pepper on...you’ll have to forgive me, doll, I can’t keep her charities straight these days.”

“All of them. I’m a liason for the Pepper Potts Charity Affiliate Corporation. It’s an umbrella corporation that provides--you know what, Sam’s eyes have already glazed over. Nevermind.” 

“No, please, continue. I want to know.” Bucky’s voice drew my attention to him, and I was a little stunned by his eyes. 

“We provide logistical, political, and financial support to charities who can’t support their own big projects, and training and structure for any charity in the affiliation. I have a double masters in logistics and business. It’s my personal job to ensure that as many projects as possible get funding. I spend a lot of time in Stark Tower with Pepper discussing potentials.”

“Interesting.” He seemed like he meant it, so I smiled at him. He smiled back, and it didn’t seem to have any undue indulgence in it. 

Sam snored loudly, breaking whatever connection I was having with Bucky. 

“Ass,” I said with a chuckle. “I finally meet a guy who can make eye contact through that whole thing, and you ruin it. That’s the reason you’re losing to the hunka on my left, not his newfound ability to flirt.”

“Steve flirts? Now, that I find unbelievable.” Bucky laughed. “I remember a time when a girl just looking at him would give him a panic attack.”

“He’s come a long way, Bucky, I think even you would be impressed.”

From the stage at the front of the room, someone announced cake. “What does everyone want?” I asked. “I’ll get them.” They gave me their preferences (chocolate for the birdbrains, and carrot cake for the two super-soldiers), and I walked over to the table where Pepper and her aide were slicing cake and plating it. 

“Isn’t this a job for your bridesmaids? Or the event planner? What are you doing, Pepp?” 

“You know how I get, Miranda. If I’m not doing it, I can’t be convinced it’s done right.” She chuckled at me. “Especially with Tony in the room. You weren’t there the year Tony rigged the cake to blow if you cut it wrong.”

“Sounds like Tony. You’ll be deliriously happy together, I’m sure.” I grabbed five plates of cake and walked back to the table. I didn't have Barton's circus training, but I'd waited a few tables back in the day.

Conversation came to a halt as I got back in earshot. “Oh man, was that not at all suspicious, guys. Might as well put a ‘we were definitely talking about you’ sign up on the table.” I set their plates down. “I hope at least one of you was defending me.”

“I was.” Hm. I wasn’t expecting that from Bucky, but I’d take it. 

“What did they say that offended your gentlemanly sensibilities so much you had to step in to defend my honor?” I leaned into him, looking up at him with what may as well have been hearts in my eyes. 

“They said you were probably going to grab the wrong cake, like you did on Pepper’s last birthday.”

“Steve, you punk, you literally changed your mind after I was walking away. If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you fifty times, that was on you.” I smacked his arm gently, still leaning into Bucky. I should probably have moved, but I couldn’t bring myself to. “You made poor ole Buckster defend a girl he’s barely met, because you can’t get over the fact that you decided you wanted chocolate cake after the fetcher had already left.”

I felt Bucky’s arm move behind me, and realized I was leaning against his metal arm. Oddly, he seemed to be moving to support me, rather than move me away. I tried to shift away, if he wanted me to, but he sort of...gripped my side? But without insisting that I stay. Like he wanted me to stay, but he wouldn’t actually stop me if I really tried to move. Suddenly, I realized I didn’t much want to.

Steve pouted. “Sorry, Randa. Sorry, Buck.”

My chair moved of its own accord quietly across the carpet, so I was sitting a little straighter and more comfortably. Did Bucky do that, or Steve?

“Oh, you’re all a bunch of softies,” I said, eating my cake with one hand. “Every last one of you Avengers, you act so tough in public but the moment a girl raises their voice you just pout at her.” I was smiling, though. They were all lovely people.

Sam narrowed his eyes at me and tried to talk through a mouthful of cake, spitting it on Bucky and I. “Nahfair he gesha hodd--”

I reached across the table to smack his shoulder. “No talking with your mouth full, birdboy.”

He swallowed, having the grace to look apologetic. “Not fair he gets to hold you, when you won’t even sit next to me. And it's Bird _ man _ , thank you very much.” 

“Buncha pouty-ass Avengers. Almost like none of you have ever had a real girl, and you have to pretend I belong to all of you,” I chuckled. “Fortunately for you lot, I like you all equally. I just happen to like Bucky a little more equally.”

“That’s not--” 

“Hey, all I said was--”

"But you just met--"

“Hey, Miranda, I need you!” 

Pepper’s voice cut through their complaints, although it didn’t take a genius to notice Bucky hadn’t said anything.

I stood, giving Bucky a kiss on the cheek before I waved at the others. “Bye, boys, try not to have too much fun without me.” As I turned away, I thought I saw Bucky’s gloved hand flutter, like he wanted to touch the spot I’d kissed.

Romantics, the lot of them. “Hey, Pepp, what do you need?”

“Betty lost her speech.”

“Again? That’s the third time this week. Good thing I made copies of all of the speeches tonight, or someone would be SOL.”

Pepper hugged me, her dress moving quietly on the floor as she did. “What would any of us do without you?”

“Make your speeches up on the spot, and we all know what happens when people make up speeches on the spot.” I looked pointedly at the groom, who was staring at Pepper like he was thinking about leaving with her before the speeches even started.

She looked at him with a loving smile. “He hates speeches,” she said as he waved at her. “He’s always been so good at them, but he much prefers to just sort of...do.”

“I imagine he does prefer...doing,” I said, elbowing her in the ribs. 

“Miranda, please. Not hardly appropriate for the setting.” She grinned at me.

“Neither is the look your husband is giving you, but there he is with bedroom eyes and a tux anyway. Go on. Go sit with him, I’ll sort the speech situation.” I was already digging out my phone and opening Betty’s speech.  _ So, today is the first day of the rest of your lives... _

I never did make it back for a dance. By the time my duties as disaster-preventer-in-chief were done, all four of the guys were gone.


	2. What Are Friends For?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It doesn't take much flint to make a spark, any more than it takes much coaxing to make their spark a flame.

_You know when we get close_  
_Can't deny the tension between us both_  
_And I don't wanna pressure you, but I think you need to make a move_

_I've been waiting (I've been waiting)_  
_And I'll keep waiting (and I'll keep waiting)_

_Only forever, only forever_  
_Only forever, only forever_  
_Only forever, only forever_  
_Only forever, only forever_

_\--Only Forever, Bing Crosby_

It was almost a month later that I ended up back at the Stark Tower, and I was nervous as hell. I’d asked if certain members of the crew were around or away, and she told me that he was, in fact, currently in residence. Steve and Sam were apparently away on a publicity stunt in DC, and Bucky was left behind for...political reasons. 

She said that didn’t sit well with him, for obvious reasons, but that he saw the necessity, also for obvious reasons. 

I arrived at the tower at precisely 8:55, stepping into Pepper’s office at 9 am sharp. Pepper <strike>Potts</strike> Stark was a very particular woman, which had never boded well for her relationship with Tony. 

We didn’t finish our work until well past two o’clock, and we were both starving. Tony had come home for lunch, in the suit, of course, so I had to find some other way to feed myself before I went back to work. Tony told me to use the communal kitchen, on the Avengers’ floors, and I couldn’t think of a better solution that didn’t involve spending my own money or leaving the tower. 

I was never a great cook, but nobody ever accused me of starving myself. Bit of this, bit of that, and I could pretend that my drowned-in-butter chicken on a drowned-in-dressing salad was healthy...ish. Maybe heavy on the ish. I sat down at the table to eat, but as I raised the fork to my mouth, I felt the hair on the back of my neck rise. 

“Is...this seat taken?”

I closed my mouth and gestured with the full fork. “Suit yourself, it’s your dining room. I’m just being somewhere the newly-weds aren’t for half an hour. I’ve never met a more ill-fitting couple that made it work so well, but I still prefer not to be in the room when they’re being lovey-dovey.”

Bucky sat down, fiddling with a rock he pulled from a pocket. A worry stone? “Why? Does it make you uncomfortable?”

“Everything Tony does makes me uncomfortable, for one reason or another. That’s just who he is. I never know if he’s about to hit someone, or hit on them.” We shared a chuckle at my joke. “But that’s the Avengers for you. Never a dull day. I feel sorry for your PR chick.” I ate a few bites of my food. “Mostly I just can’t stand to see two people so in love. Makes me wonder what it would be like to have a love life.”

“Bad memories?” He looked apologetic, although I couldn’t fathom why.

“Lack of memories, more like. Always been too busy for the good men, and too good for the rest of them. I know my worth enough to not get roped into a bad relationship, and the kind of guy I’d be willing to go for doesn’t fit in my busy life.”

“What sort of guy is that?”

“The guy who remembers important things so I don’t have to do all of it. The kind of guy who can write his own damn speech for once in my life. The kind of guy who’s still there for me when I get back from whatever nonsense the Affiliates sends me on.” I knew I was being unnecessarily salty, but seeing other people happy made me grumpy. Just once, I’d have liked my own happy ending. Not that kind of happy ending, but, like...happy. Just happiness.

I didn’t need a happily ever after; that was for people who weren’t me. I just wanted to be happy.

“Does your job make you happy?” His eyes pierced mine, with a kind of intensity that made me...the good kind of uncomfortable. God, I needed more sleep than I was getting, if I was muttering out loud and thinking odd sentences.

“Most days. I do good work, important work. I just wish I could trust other people to do my job sometimes. I haven’t had a week off in...feels like years. Between my dual masters’ degrees, Pepper’s charities, working at Stark Tower…”

He sat up straight suddenly, interrupting whatever dour thoughts I was working towards. “I have something for you. Don’t leave.”

I watched him go into the elevator, and munched on my salad morosely. What on earth could he have...for me? And here I thought we were having such a bonding moment.

It took him no more than five minutes to come back. “Sorry, sorry. It got moved. I had to find it. Somehow it ended up in Steve’s fridge,” he said, putting a small cake down on the table. “Pepper, uh, Pepper said your birthday was tomorrow. Told me I should get you a cake.”

“And why would Pepper do that?” Not that I doubted it for a minute, the nosy Nellie.

“Because, and I’m quoting here, ‘two people who are that nervous around each other need to stop being nervous and admit they have a crush on each other.’” He ran a hand through his hair--it looked just as soft as it had at the wedding--and smiled at me. 

I smiled back. “She’s a smart woman, but is she right? Is that what’s happening here?” I cut into the cake, realizing that it was funfetti cake. “How’d you know I liked Funfetti cake? Did Pepper tell you?”

“No,” he said, looking at the table for a moment. Oh yeah, that guy was super nervous. Definitely crushing hard, which is good, because so was I. “I just...remembered. It was what you had at the wedding, which means you didn’t like chocolate or carrot cake. And nobody picks vanilla cake unless they really like vanilla cake,” he said. He looked back up at me with a small smile. “Or so I’m told. Haven’t had much opportunity since, you know, before.” 

Before Captain America, and before the Winter Soldier. He didn’t finish the sentence, but it was obvious what he meant. 

"Fair. I know it's not your favorite, but share it with me?"

"Don't you need to get back? How long is your lunch?" He rubbed his neck, and I realized the extent of the setup. 

"Pepper said she'd text me when she needed me. I think she wanted us to spend some time together, because she's a meddling wench who has never once minded her own damn business."

JARVIS interrupted me. "Mrs. Stark wanted me to tell you that if she'd minded her own business, you'd still be looking for a job."

I grumbled something unflattering about my boss.

"I'll be sure to tell her that, Ms. Lionsbeth."

"JARVIS, I will have you shredded into scrap code, I swear to God." I jumped to my feet. "I'll force Tony to delete you. I will."

Bucky laughed at me. “I’d apologize, JARVIS, she’s got Pepper’s ear and Pepper has Tony by the...ear.”

“Of course. I apologize, Ms. Lionsbeth. I will not tell Mrs. Stark what you said about her, as unflattering as it was.”

“Better not. I know where Tony keeps your power setup. I can unplug your servers. I’ll run a magnet over them if I even think you’ve narc’d on me.”

“Understood, Ms. Lionsbeth.” The AI played a tone meant to indicate the conversation was over, and I sat back down. 

“Remind me never to get on your bad side.” Bucky smiled, sitting next to me as I cut him a slice of cake. 

“I suspect you’ll have no trouble remembering that on your own,” I joked, elbowing him. 

We chatted for a few minutes companionably, discussing the ins and outs of our daily lives; him as an Avenger, me as a member of Pepper’s circle of charities. He was a good listener, although only time would tell if he’d be able to recall any of the things I was telling him. But honestly, I didn’t care right now. Tomorrow was my birthday. Pepper was legally obligated to remember my birthday (the joke contract I’d had drawn up had accidentally gotten signed into a binding document), but Bucky had remembered what kind of cake i liked without ever actually saying it out loud. I liked him very much. 

I realized, slowly and without any sort of overt indicators on either of our parts, that we’d been shifting closer. Our hands were nearly touching on the table--mine flesh, his metal--and if I shifted just a little more, I’d be leaning into him. How did this happen twice? “You know, Bucky...I didn’t get the chance to dance with anyone at the wedding. You guys all left without even saying goodbye. What happened?”

He looked at our hands, seeming to realize with all the suddenness I’d lacked, and spoke softly, almost nervously. “Clint suddenly...that is, we all had to...it was...Steve had a thing…” 

“It’s fine, Bucky. You don’t have to tell me. It’s an Avengers thing, I get it. But, there is one thing I think you should do to make it up to me.”

I have never in my life seen an Avenger with such an acute look of terror on his face as Bucky had in that moment. I was very curious what he thought I was going to ask for. 

“I want you to dance with me, Mr. Barnes. Your friends were supposed to, and they and you all left before the dancing started, so someone owes me a dance. I don’t see Steve or Sam here, so it’ll have to be you.” I stood and walked over to the open space on the floor. “I’m not sure what was your jam back then, so we’ll just have to go with some nice modern songs. JARVIS, play the Macarena.”

His jaw dropped. “You want me to dance to the Macarena. In this room. In a room where Tony has access to every camera, and will undoubtedly be responsible for a video of me dancing to the Macarena getting on the internet.” He just stared at me as I started to dance. 

“JARVIS, chicken dance.”

The look of shock got even worse and more comical. “I’m definitely not doing...that.”

“Cut the music. Bucky, you owe a girl a dance. It’s not polite to bail on a girl, especially not after we were getting to know each other so well.” I walked toward him, moving as sensually as I knew how. Which...wasn’t much, but I saw him look me up and down so I was pleased with the results.

“I haven’t danced since 1944.”

“You’re the best looking hundred year old man I’ve ever seen. You’re still a spring chicken. Steve said you were a hit with the girls way back when, show me that guy.” I ran a hand lightly down his flesh arm, and he shivered. I grabbed his hand and pulled him to the middle of the room. “JARVIS, hit me with some Bing Crosby. Be a good wingman, won’t you?”

That bastard AI actually played _Only Forever._ “Will this suit you, Ms. Lionsbeth?”

“Perfectly. Thank you. Do you know this one, Bucky?” I slid my free hand into his as we stood there, Bing’s soft crooning serenading us. “1940s, right?”

“1940, actually, yeah. This was a great song to dance with your dame, anything by him was. I didn’t realize he was still popular these days.” With almost too much shyness, he pulled my hands behind his back, leaving them wrapped around him as he held me close. 

We rocked back and forth to the tune. “I’ve always liked his music. My parents raised me with a lot of older music and movies.” I leaned my head against his chest. 

“Hey, JARVIS,” Bucky said, “play _I'm Getting Sentimental Over You._ Mel Torme."

I hadn't heard this song, but it was the same sort of lovey-dovey nonsense. I sat there for a minute, just appreciating it. Hell of a first date, this was. Both of us, and neither of us, professing our undying love for each other. I remarked as much to him, without pulling away.

"Doll, I've had much worse first dates with much crazier gals. You're a catch, and I'd be thrilled to get a second date with you. Maybe," he said, touching my head so I'd look at him, "we can even actually say how we feel by the time we're done with the date."

"I thought _Only Forever_ made it pretty clear," I joked.

"Clear as mud, babe. I'm a simple man from a simpler time. You gotta spell it out for me. Real clear-like." His hands moved a little lower on my back suggestively, but not...like, too suggestively, like he was just trying to encourage me. Bucky seemed to be very careful about where he put his hands.

“Well, let me put it like this. Best way I know how. This is the first date, and I think it went pretty well. We danced, we talked, we’re pretty good for and to each other. I’m crazy about you, and if the musical selection is any indication, you’re crazy about me. It’s safe to assume that there’s a second date in our future. And, if the goodbye kiss goes well, I’d plan on a whole lot more than the one date.”

Bucky leaned his head down to rest his forehead on mine. “Kiss me once, then kiss me twice, then kiss me once again. It’s been a long, long time.” I smiled, recognizing another Bing Crosby song. “Haven’t felt like this, my dear, since...I can’t remember when.”

I angled my face up, our lips almost but not quite touching. “Glad to.” 

He moved forward an imperceptible inch, and I was thoroughly impressed. Not too much pressure, but not too light. He ran his tongue across my bottom lip slowly, and my lips parted with a sigh. The kiss was slow and leisurely, but not lazy. His hands left the small of my back; his metal hand gripped my hip carefully, and his other ran up my side carefully to cradle my head. He pushed against me, leaning me back ever so slightly. I pushed back, and our kiss slowly built in intensity until I had to move my own hands. I slid a hand into his long, soft hair and sighed again. He drew back enough to let me breathe, and I said, “You, sir, have the most amazing hair. I’m genuinely jealous.” I kept my hair short, but when it was long it was just thick and irritating.

“You’re not going to believe this,” he said, steering me over to the couch, “but Steve actually knows an unreasonable amount about hair products and helped me out. I suspect someone taught him when he thawed. He didn’t know nearly that much about hair in the 40s.” We shared a small laugh.

He turned me to sit, and I jumped out of my skin. "Christ in a handbasket, Barton, how long have you been standing there?"

Bucky spun, one hand pushing me behind him and one reaching for a weapon he didn't have on his hip. "Don't spook the assassin, punk, it's not a good way to keep on living."

Barton stopped eating his food long enough to pat down his front, checking for injuries. "Doesn't look like I have any bullet holes, did she declaw you already?" He threw a handful of popcorn in his mouth. "What was that," he said through the popcorn, "half an hour? Almost a record."

"Buzz off, Barton," I said. 

"Hey, don't shoot the messenger hawk. I'm just here to let you know you missed 3 texts from Pepper while you were dancing. And Tony wants to talk to you, loverboy. Probably gonna give you the Iron Dad speech, if I had to put money on it--wear protection, have her home by ten, don't have sex on the kitchen counter, you know."

"BARTON!" we shouted together. We even had matching blushes. What a pair we made.

He put his hands up. “I’m just letting you know. I did my job, I’m going to my rooms now.” He turned his back on us and left.

I grabbed my phone off the table next to the remains of our cake. I had, in fact, missed three messages, one of which was from Tony: “Don’t do anything I wouldn't do, and definitely don’t do anything I would do.” How unhelpful.

I pulled up my contacts and held the phone out to Bucky. “I’m assuming Tony gave you a phone, give me the number. So we can schedule a second date, maybe somewhere Tony and his nannybots can’t interrupt.”

“I like the sound of that, doll,” Bucky said with a smile. He handed the phone back to me. “Let me know when and where. I’ll even make Tony pay, if he tries to give me the Iron Dad speech.”

“Sounds fair to me. I should probably get back to work. Pepper and I had a fair few things left to discuss when we realized it was way after lunchtime." I started to gather my things. "Do you have much of a schedule these days? Anything I should try to work around?" 

"Just the occasional mission, nothing spectacular, doll. I'll find something for us. You like Italian food? Thor raves about this little place by Central Park."

"I'm in. Let me know when works for you, my days are pretty flexible. I can do anything except take the day off." I slung my bag onto my shoulder. 

He put his hands on my hips and leaned in. “Maybe have Pepper make an exception. For Avengers business.” He kissed me sweetly, a very nice goodbye kiss. “Very important Avengers business.”

I left the common area, the elevator doors closing quietly behind me as I leaned against a wall. I sighed deeply, then whispered to myself, “I haven’t felt this way since, I don’t know when…”


	3. What Are The Chances?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The happy couple finally makes time for that date they talked about.

_ So you're saying there's a chance we end up on the dance floor _

_ Your hands up in my pants back pocket swaying _

_ So you're saying there's a chance we could wind up on your porch _

_ Leaning you against your door _

_ Slow-kissing lip-twisting hearts falling in a trance _

_ One in a million shot of finding true romance _

_ Oh baby, so you're saying there's a chance _

_ \--So You're Saying, Joe Nichols _

As it turned out, convincing Pepper that what I really needed was a weekend off to hang out with Bucky was not at all difficult. It took three weeks to get my workload parsed down to where one of my people could handle it, but then I was able to send the victorious text.

_ Hey, loverboy, great news. I get out at 3 on Friday, and I don't have to be back til Monday. _

I smiled after I sent it. We'd been talking frequently over the last few weeks, and not just texting. Twice I'd fallen asleep with the phone next to my head, his voice lulling me to slumber. 

_ Great, doll. I'll meet you at the office with one of Tony's cars. He made sure to bring them up in the Iron Dad speech, so we definitely need to be extra careful with it. ;) _

I laughed so loud my secretary poked her head in. "You alright, Ms. Miranda?" 

I fumbled the phone as I turned to her, and it landed facedown on my desk. "Just my boyfriend. He's a very funny man."

She gave me a skeptical look. "You're a brave woman, dating a killer like that. I wouldn't have the nerves."

"He's not a killer, any more than Steve is. Any more than any of them are. Any more than any member of the military is,” I said with a frown. ”He's a really nice guy, and I'm tired of people holding his past against him.” My arms crossed as though I’d been accused, rather than him, as I continued, "Why you're all fine with America's Golden Boy, but a reformed un-brainwashed puppy dog like Bucky gets your hackles up, I have no idea."

"You think I'm like a puppy?" 

I nearly fell over in surprise at Bucky’s voice interrupting my speech. "Christ in a handbasket, Buck, what the hell?" I flipped my phone over to see that I'd somehow called him and set it to speakerphone. "It was, uh, a compliment, I'll call you back." I hung up on him. "And you, Susan...just...don't. Just don't even anything. We never had this conversation." I knew I was blushing. Damn it.

Sue left. God, this was embarrassing. My phone buzzed, and I got even more flushed as I opened the text. 

_ I'm glad you think I'm cute, at least :P _

I groaned. _ Why didn't you say something when I called you? Don't be creepy. _

_ Because, doll, an agent waits to reveal their position until the most tactically advantageous time. _

_ You are literally the worst. _

_ Which is why you love me. _

_ ...yes. I'll see you tomorrow at 3. _

\--------------------------------------

Friday came, and 3:00 with it. Susan expressed her typical displeasure with me not living at the office like she did, four people tried to saddle me with last-minute paperwork (spoiler alert: they failed), and I nearly tripped over an intern standing obsequiously behind me when I backed out of my office with my arms full of paperwork to drop on my partner’s desk. 

Finally, I made it down to the street, a couple minutes late. There, in bright hot rod red, was the most obnoxious convertible I think I’d ever seen. Bucky had parked such that he took up two spaces, right in front of the office.

“Hey, uh, Bucky, how long have you been there?”

“Since noon,” he said, pushing my door open from the driver’s seat. “How else was I supposed to get the best spot? Couldn’t have you crossing the street, and anything less than dead center for my dame just wouldn’t do.”

I slid into the car--a Ferrari, not that it meant anything to me--and gave him a peck on the cheek. “Did you have to physically move Aidan’s car to do it?”

“Oh, was that his name? No, I just had to tell him who I was and why I was here, and he drove off like I’d threatened his life. Which, by the way, I definitely didn’t.” Bucky chose that moment to pull out of the spot, though, and very conveniently did not meet my eyes. As he settled into traffic, he put an arm around me. 

“That all sounds very convenient, and I’m just sure if I asked JARVIS to replay the events for me, that’s exactly what he’d show me.” I smiled sweetly at him, sarcasm only thinly veiled. 

“No, really,” Bucky protested. “I just told him that I was here to pick up Miranda, and the best idea for everyone involved would be for him to find somewhere else for his car. That’s all I said.” He changed lanes, avoiding looking at me again. He was weaving through traffic masterfully, and I’m pretty sure he broke every speed limit between the office and Central Park, but we managed to get to the restaurant without hitting anyone or being hit.

I didn’t have much else to say; I didn’t want to color the date by insisting that he tell me what happened, only to find out he’d actually physically moved my boss or his car and now I had to be mad at him. He found a spot and came around to let me out, tossing the keys at the valet. A _ valet _ ! “This car belongs to Tony Stark. Ding it, and he’ll know,” Bucky said with a chuckle. The kid couldn’t have been more than seventeen, and his eyes went as wide as the moon when he caught _ Tony Stark's keys! _

The doors of the restaurant opened to reveal a lovely rose-filled room with dark tables and bright accents. "Ah, Mr. Barnes, it is wonderful to meet you at last." The host's voice was warm and friendly, a sharp contrast to Susan's skepticism the day before. "Mr. Thor has spoken glowingly of you. And who is this radiant woman at your side?" His accent was thick, but not so bad it was unintelligible.

"Ms. Miranda Lionsbeth. She's an associate of Mrs. Stark's, and should be treated as you would any member of the Stark retinue,” Bucky responded. “And my girlfriend, which is why we’d appreciate some privacy.”

The host inclined his head politely. “Of course, Mr. Barnes. Any friend of Mrs. Stark’s is a friend of _ Bendettino’s. _This way, if you please.” He grabbed menus and silverware, then led us into a second dining room with tall booths and curtains. “Bendettino knows that privacy is a rich man’s friend, and Bendettino likes to also be a rich man’s friend,” the host explained to me with a hint of humor. “Bendettino likes to make friends of many people, for that is when a man is truly rich.” He chuckled, then opened a curtain for us. 

“What’s the use of money,” I said with a smile, “if you have no one to spend it with?”

“Ah, a wise woman you have here, Mr. Barnes. Be kind to her, or Bendettino might steal her away. Your server will be with you shortly.” He allowed the curtain to close behind us as we sat down on opposite sides of the round booth. 

I patted the cushion as his footsteps faded. “I like this. A nice shade of purple, and the round bench is nice. Means I can scoot over to you if I wanted to." I looked up at him through my lashes coyly. 

"Or," he said darkly, "and this is a _ revolutionary _ idea, I could scoot over to _ you _." He did so suddenly, causing me to squeak. 

Then he wrapped his arms so tightly around me, there was little I could do but lean into him and laugh. "Oh no, the terrible killer James Buchanan Barnes has me in his clutches. Whatever shall I do?!"

"You could kiss him," he said with a friendly tone. "I hear that declaws him pretty quick. In record time, even." 

I cocked my head, like I was thinking about it. "I could, indeed. I wonder what other tricks I could try that might work even faster," I said, sliding my arms around his shoulders.

"I can think of a few things." He moved in to kiss me, and I met him in the middle. 

He passed his lips over mine once, twice, a third time, then pressing firmer. He leaned me back a little farther, holding me up with his metal arm so his flesh hand could cup the back of my head. His fingers gripped my hair as I sighed into his mouth.

He took the opportunity to slide his tongue into my mouth, running it over my teeth and exploring the recesses before encouraging mine to dance. 

I was overcome. The man couldn't have had more than a few kisses since...before, but he was still a master. 

I gave a sigh that was suspiciously like a moan, and I could feel him smile. He moved to rub his nose along my jawline, and I stretched my neck unconsciously. 

"Mmm, I love that sound. You sound so pretty, doll." He kissed me under my ear, and I melted into him.

The sound of approaching footfall on the carpet had gone unnoticed, so when the soft knock sounded, we jumped apart like a couple of startled teenagers. We...we giggled like idiots as the server came through the curtain.

"Buon pomeriggio, I am your server, Fabrienne." Her voice was soft and her accent thick as she greeted us. "Bendettino has offered a bottle of wine to you and your lovely woman, Mr. Barnes. What would you like me to bring for you?" She addressed him, but looked at me. She seemed to be trying not to meet Bucky's eyes, or even look at him at all. 

"Something red, I think, don't you, Buck?"

He smiled at me before looking at Fabrienne. He ordered something in Italian, causing her to look at him with pleasant surprise before responding in the same language. I heard Thor's name, then Bendettino's, then something that might have been food.

As the waitress stepped back through the curtain, I looked at Bucky. "Italian?"

"And Russian, and Romanian, and Spanish, Mandarin _ and _ Cantonese, and even English." He rubbed my side. "They made me learn them all."

He didn't need to specify who 'they' was. "Oh. Alright, then. I just wasn't expecting it. What did you get us?"

"Appetizers and wine. Food, you'll need to order on your own, I don't know yet what you like." He leaned on one elbow, chin in his hand. His hair flipped into his eyes, so I reached up to brush it away. 

I tucked it behind his ear, and his eyes caught mine as my hand fell to his shoulder. Though I could see the hesitance in his eyes to resume our previous...activity, there beside the hesitation was a need I couldn't name, but recognized in a moment. I felt it, too. He pulled me towards him on the seat with his metal hand, and I rested my other hand on his leg.

"Is that a worry stone in your pocket?" I asked quietly, looking up through my lashes at him. "Or are you just happy to see me?" He matched my sly smile with one of his own.

"It is a worry stone…" He leaned in, rubbing his nose on my neck again. "...but I'm also very happy to see you."

I made a pleased hum as he began to lick and tease the skin there. "Hm, that's not hardly fair. Wine will be here soon. We shouldn't get distracted. Again." I pushed against his shoulder lightly. "As much faaahh...as much fun as it might be.." 

He huffed, though he was smiling at me. “Spoilsport. You’re probably right though, we shouldn’t get distracted. Maybe you could tell me about your day? Tell me about your secretary who apparently dislikes me so much.”

I blushed again, remembering the incident the other day. "Susan doesn't like anyone. Susan doesn't even like me. I'm not even sure she likes herself. But she's the sort of ruthlessly efficient secretary I need to get my job done in a timely manner, and as much as I don't care for her attitude some days, her results are too undeniable to ask Pepper to replace her." I thought for a moment. "I think she still resents being moved out of Stark Tower and into the PPCAC offices. She used to be one of Pepper's undersecretaries."

"Why was she moved?" Bucky asked as the waitress knocked on our booth.

We thanked her for bringing our wine, then she asked, "What can I get you to eat, signorina?"

We ordered, Bucky in fluent Italian, asking about one of the menu options, and myself in poor mockeries of the intended pronunciation. I knew very little about sauce, and less about pasta. When the two of them were satisfied, Fabre--Fabrienne, sorry, left with a small bow, and I answered the question Bucky had asked a minute earlier. 

"Because Susan is not very good at dealing with the press. Pepper always has a journalist or two banging on her door, and Sue couldn't manage them. My position is much less outward-facing than Pepper's, and she's better suited for my work anyway." 

\------------------------------------

The rest of the meal passed without incident, as Bucky told me about the mission he'd been on until the other day, what Steve had been doing, and recounted a tale about Sam falling off the roof for the third time in a week because Barton kept shooting noisemakers at his feet right before takeoff. As we got back in the car, courtesy of the still-shell-shocked valet, the cool night air ruffled Bucky's perfect hair. 

He pulled into traffic, weaving and dodging through the Manhattan traffic, only stopping when we got to the Stark Tower garage. He stopped at the entrance, before we went in, looking at me with a terrible mix of hope and apprehension. "Are you sure about this, Randa? Whether we go all the way or not, this is gonna change our dynamic. I really like you, and I don't wanna mess that up by finding out you, I don't know," he looked at the steering wheel, "push your toothpaste out from the middle, or hang your toilet paper over the back of the roll or something."

"Is that really what the big, bad assassin is scared of? Incorrect toiletry habits? I'm sure, Buck. I wouldn't have offered to stay at the tower for the weekend if I wasn't. You'll just have to find out the hard way how I squeeze out my toothpaste." I smiled warmly at him. "Let's go finish this date, Bucky. I'm sure the guys can't wait to interrogate us both."

He parked the car at just enough of an odd angle to irritate Tony when he found out, then led me by the hand to the elevator. "Maybe we'll get lucky and Nat sent them all to bed early."

I snorted. "Neither of us is that lucky. Let's just get this over with before Thor pins you down with the hammer to berate you for bringing me home too late."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for the delay, I know it's been almost a month. I'm having some technical difficulties getting into the spirit of what this fic was meant to be, so I'm not certain when the next chapter will be out. If you're patient, maybe I'll manage it by Christmas.
> 
> God, I hope I'm joking about that. Well, I hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as I did, I worked very hard on it.


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